I'm one stressed out mamma jamma.
Let's see ... I've been dabbling with smoking again -- there's a good place to start. One on Sunday, OK, OK, we can write that off, but then three last night, and another 3 1/2 this morning ... though this time, some good judgement kicked in, made me pay attention to the fact that -- hey -- I wasn't enjoying the feeling, didn't want to be doing what I was doing, so I put out the one I was smoking, and crumpled the remaining few in the pack. I still have a full pack locked in the trunk of my car, and maybe I'll take a page from H.W.S.R.N. ... when he quit, he took his remaining tin of tobacco and gave it away. I was so fucking impressed with that; knew it was what I should do, but lacked the guevos or whatever to do so. My bad.
The smoking came from a week of stress, or maybe a week that simply ended in stress, in drama that was a culmination of a bunch of bad things to mix together, like PMS, teasing, sleeplessness, and, oh yes, did I mention stress? People should learn by now that I don't play nice when I'm PMSing. Blech. And I don't even feel like anyone is at fault -- me or anyone else -- just like ... like it was a bad week for any serious topics to be discussed. Grrrr. Yea, so now all I've accomplished is that my heart is going pitty pat and my throat feels tight and I'm FUCKING MAD AT MYSELF for being such a goddamn loser sheep. Baaaaaaaaaaa ...
Anyway ... happy birthday to rawdolphin and for the love of Pete, somebody PLEASE give me some fucking housing in DC!